In fato adgressi
by hiddleshawcumberenneleckeit
Summary: The last thing Jane wanted was to lose Sherlock, but now it seems that her fear is coming too soon... Sherlock/OC. Story in the 'Coniunctionem Vitæ, Amoris, rutrum et' series
1. Chapter One

**Title: In fato adgressi  
Rating: Teen  
Primary Characters: Sherlock Holmes, Jane Dunn (OC)  
Secondary Characters: N/A  
Pairing: Sherlock/Jane (OC)  
Summary: The last thing Jane wanted was to lose Sherlock, but now it seems that her fear is coming too soon...**

**Notes: Wow, okay, I really haven't posted anything in a while... but I don't really have much to post. Yes, I have been writing a fair amount, I just haven't been posting any of it yet. Maybe I'll post other works later, but for now, here is another Sherlock story. As of right now, this is the last in my Sherlock/Jane series- a little upsetting for me, because I have many ideas for the two, but this series has just been on the back-burner and, thus, I just haven't worked on it. Anyway, I'll shut up now so you can read it.**

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Jane swiftly turned down a new street with wide eyes scanning the area around her; something was definitely not right, she could feel it. So much had been going on in her once small world—she, Sherlock, and John had gained the public's eyes and had begun to deal with a much greater number of cases and criminals—it all seemed a little overwhelming. And right now was probably the worst moment of them all. Now, the trio was in the hands of Moriarty. One of the greatest minds in the world, and they were practically at his mercy.

This is why Jane was running. Not from Moriarty (who could actually imagine him chasing after anyone while wearing those expensive shoes?) or any of the frightening goons he's hired to do his dirty work, but rather running _to _him. More specifically to Sherlock. Jane figured out where Sherlock disappeared to after the never ending catastrophe of recent events and knew it wasn't right; she had a strange feeling that whatever was going on was _not _good. Not in the slightest. So, Jane chose to also put herself in the possible line of danger without a glance back. Which led her to where she was now.

When Jane reached the busy street, she looked around frantically without a care for the other people around her; Sherlock was the important thing right now, not these strangers. Jane had to find him and help him before something happened to the public or to himself.

As Jane went to cross the street, she looked up toward the sunlight and tall building tops. Then she stopped. She was in the middle of an intersection and had horns blaring at her from all directions, which caused Jane to throw out a few insults that shouldn't be repeated, before she found her way back to the pavement and looked up again to the spot that caught her eye. To be sure she wasn't catching some strange glare, Jane removed her sunglasses and stared back at the rooftop that had the suspicious figure stood upon it. Sure enough, though, what she saw was no illusion. Jane's eyes widened as she saw Sherlock looking over the building's edge. In a frenzy, Jane started running towards it, but was stopped by traffic (she was lucky to have been paying just enough attention to her surroundings, or she would have been hit by a car), forcing her to stay away from the building.

"Sherlock!" Jane called as she cupped her hands around her mouth for a greater projection of her voice. Sherlock looked toward her with an empty expression, but with a tinge of fear that couldn't be seen from Jane's distance. The two stared at each other for a few moments before Jane began to move back toward the buildings. But Sherlock was just as quick and had already pulled out his mobile and pressed her speed dial. After only one ring—a surprise to Sherlock, as Jane _always _waited till her phone rang three times—Jane answered.

"Don't come any closer to this building." Jane froze for only a moment.

"Sherlock, I came to help you, just let me." Jane began jogging again as Sherlock groaned in panic.

"Jane, stay where you are or you _will die!"_ He pushed. Jane could practically feel his worry and froze, "You can't do anything to help me." Jane glared up at him.

"I came to _help_; don't think I won't bec—"

"Dammit, Jane!" Sherlock spat in a tone Jane had never heard before; she could hear fear, anger, confusion, control, hate, and… love? This was a tone no one but Sherlock could even begin to think to be able to portray, and it became quickly evident to Jane that she had to listen, "_Don't you dare _come nearer—I'm handling this and cannot let you become involved. It would do neither of us good if you tried." Jane exhaled shakily as she looked back up toward Sherlock from her place just across the street.

"What's going on…?" She asked slowly. Sherlock almost smiled at her question—she wasn't often stuck in the dark, after all—but the pressure of the situation kept him entirely serious; time was running out and something had to be done.

"Jane, I can't explain it to you." He replied simply as he looked all around himself at each building before his eyes settled back on Jane's form so many feet from him, "Explaining would do us no good anyway." Jane wrapped an arm around herself as he eyes stayed on Sherlock.

"What of Moriarty?" She then asked, "You _must _explain something of this situation." Sherlock let out a sigh.

"I can't at all." Jane stared for a few more moments before her eyes widened; she had pieced everything together—their location, Sherlock's behaviour, previous events, Moriarty's (apparent) absence.

"Oh God, Sherlock, don't do what I think you will." She suddenly insisted with a thick panic in her voice, _"You can't."_

"I have to." He said simply as he looked at the ground below him, "I have to do this… for everyone. For you." Jane tensed. 'For you.' _'For you.' _There was so much to be said with those two words. So much that never would be said. They had so many opportunities in the past to exchange everything their hearts ever felt and now they ran out of all future chances. "Jane, look around you; _really _look." Jane automatically did as she was told, taking a quick look at everything, but caught what Sherlock wanted her to see; the man sat suspiciously in the window, waiting for _something_, "If I don't do this… then he will act; I can't let him do that."

Jane's breath was heavy now, shaking in a very panicked way. She suddenly felt weak. Too weak. She realized that now her emotions were set to their maximum and it frightened her. Jane wanted to break down, but she couldn't do that. Not in front of all these people. _Not _in front of Sherlock.

"Now you have to let me do this." Jane choked back a sob at hearing that. Sherlock swallowed loudly at the sound that Jane's choking made in his ear; he could hardly stand this. She wanted to let all these emotions out, but refused to. Sherlock could say he was a little thankful for that, but her struggle to keep calm was just as bad. Sherlock knew he couldn't just leave her without a… "proper" goodbye, but he could hardly bring himself to continue, "Please don't panic anymore; continue to keep on this strong front. Harley—" Sherlock practically choke; he was leaving behind that great little four year old he's grown to enjoy, "—she needs you." Jane bit her lip, "Not only her, but John will. And who else will be the _real _brains in the Dublin, Liverpool, _and _London investigative world if you don't stay strong?" Both grinned sadly at the statement. Jane was virtually in tears now and couldn't control herself much anymore.

"But what will we do without the greatest mind in all of the UK?" She asked slowly and shakily, gasping back any unneeded tears or hiccups.

"I believe that's you." Sherlock replied, making Jane's eyes widen—Sherlock had never been one for complementing others.

"Sherlock, I—" Jane stopped; the tears were coming and couldn't be stopped. With her other hand, Jane covered her face, but it would hardly do her any good since Sherlock could hear every little violent gasp she took through the ear piece of his phone. Sherlock could feel a strong pain in the base of his throat which he couldn't rid himself of. He took in a heavy breath as he listened to Jane's light sobs.

"Jane, I am so sorry…" Sherlock muttered, which Jane just barely heard. Sherlock looked over the edge of the building. He slowly stepped up, with his toes hanging just over the edge. Jane gasped loudly as she bit down on her knuckle, watching Sherlock with wide, tear filled eyes. A string of _'no'_s could be heard over the phone in a frantic, muffled tone as the couple looked each other in the eye.

_'You really need to work on your mumbling.' _Sherlock thought with a twitch of a grin, wanting to say it to lighten the situation and make Jane smile one last time, but the weight of the moment was already too much and couldn't be lightened.

"I… Jane Dunn… I love you." And with that, Sherlock leaned over the edge. A scream was heard from Jane who stood in complete shock, both at his statement and at seeing the man she also loved falling to his death. Sherlock once more apologized quietly as the ground became increasingly close.

Jane's eyes were wide as she stared ahead of her at nothing particular but the building Sherlock just descended from. After a few moments, movement came back to her and she ran faster than she ever had before, avoiding all traffic (both human and vehicle) to reach Sherlock's limp form. As she came to his side, others did also, but Jane hardly took any notice of them. As she sobbed loudly, Jane put a hand on Sherlock's bloody cheek; he was _gone. Dead. _The mere thought destroyed Jane, but seeing him there in front of her practically killed her.

She was alone again.


	2. Chapter Two

Jane was like an empty shell. She felt incomplete and entirely alone. She had been like this for weeks. Jane became worse than she had ever been before; she refused to leave Baker Street for anything. Jane took no cases, calls, saw no one (aside from Mrs. Hudson, who every once and a while tried to help her in some way), and even told the McGinnis' to keep Harley with them for some extra time, saying something very important came up, but refused to go into greater detail. She was entirely alone again. She thought Sherlock (the name was painful to think of) was the permanent thing in her life now. She was wrong. Like everything else good in Jane's life, he was taken from her.

John wanted to leave Baker Street quickly after Sherlock's unexpected death, and that's just what he did. He obviously took recovery time—and time to at least try to help Jane—but once he felt ready, he packed up and left. Jane was destined to be alone, she assumed. The string of events in her life supported that theory all too greatly. Jane would just have to get used to being alone once more and probably keep it that way. It was probably best to leave Harley with her "adoptive" family.

She was hardly helping herself, though. Jane didn't move anything of Sherlock's from the flat; most everything stayed in its place. From the violin to the jar of thumbs, nothing ever left the room it belonged in. All this behaviour was a mistake in Jane's mind—she knew psychology pretty well, so she understood how bad her decisions are—but she couldn't stop herself. Well, rather, start herself, it should be put. Jane was almost mind-set on letting herself rot away in the flat, but couldn't bring herself to let it happen. No matter how bad she was, she couldn't bring herself to allow her life to end. She was still needed, whether she liked it or not. And she stayed for Sherlock. Dying now would be like letting him down and Jane was done with being a disappointment to someone so important in her life. It could be said Sherlock's dying wish was to see Jane stay strong and do great things, but she did neither. But that couldn't be his dying wish. It could be a wish.

Sherlock was anything but dead.

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**Oh goodness, when I wrote this I gave myself emotions. Whether or not it is entirely worthy of such, I was sad for a little bit after working on it.**


End file.
